Chapter 11
Dae
“I’m not getting in unless you tell me where we’re going,” my little warrior insists, arms folded, as I stand with the passenger door of my car.
This is the first time I’ve seen her in a week since our date at the gun range. Due to work commitments and the fact that she took an impromptu trip—one she is unaware that I know about—out of town for her investigation, I haven’t had a chance to see her.
Today, I want her all to myself.
“You’ll find out once we arrive,” I reply, keeping the smirk off my face. I know she’s serious, but dammit, if it doesn’t make my dick hard when she’s being stubborn.
Her eyes narrow, and I stare at how the sunlight glints as it hits her brown orbs. Without conscious thought, I move so close that our lips are mere inches apart. My gaze lingers on her lips before meeting her eyes again.
“Get in the car, Kennedy.” Though unintended, my voice comes out in a growl.
Her lips part, and that vein in her neck quickens slightly.
She likes being told what to do.
“Where. Are. We. Going?” she insists. Yet, she doesn’t try to move away or break free of the way I’ve caged her in between the car door and my body.
“On a date.”
She shakes her head. The brown locks she chose to wear today swish around her shoulders. The urge to entwine my fingers in her hair, capture those lips, and make her surrender to my will is almost unbearable.
I force myself to remember that we’re in public. All of her looks of passion and murmurs of pleasure will be for my eyes and ears only. Thus, instead of taking her the way I want to, I step closer, taking one of her curls and coiling it around my finger.
I hover my face so our lips are less than an inch apart. “Get in the car, Kennedy. It’ll be worth your while.”
“And if I don’t?”
Her challenge makes my dick press against the zipper of my pants.
“Then I’ll make you,” I reply right before lowering my head and nipping her earlobe with my teeth.
Her entire body shudders.
She’s so responsive.
The challenge lingers in her eyes. If I had to guess, I would say she wants to ask how I would make her. I have a few options I can think of. Putting her over my knee is number one on my list, but like I said, we’re in public.
“You’re going to enjoy where we’re going. I promise,” I finally say.
She looks me up and down, and I do the same. I note the way the perfectly fitting jeans snuggle her hips, the oversized, V-neck green T-shirt complements the red undertones of her light brown skin, and the light makeup she’s wearing that gives her eyes an even more feline shape but doesn’t obscure her freckles.
I could stare at her for hours and never get bored or tired.
“Fine, but it better be fun. And I have more questions about Blackmon,” she relents, getting in the car.
The drive will take about thirty minutes.
“And you can tell me what you did while you were out of town,” I reply. The tracker on her phone told me when she was at the airport. I gave it a few hours before I called her.
Turns out, she was in the home state of the girl who committed suicide. Which also happens to be Blackmon’s home state.
“Do you know anything about Blackmon’s church affiliation?”
I force myself not to tighten my grip on the wheel. It’s his damn affiliation that’s putting Blackmon in a position for consideration with the Global Group.
“He does a lot of charity work through it,” I tell her.
She nods. “Yeah, I found that out on my work trip.” Her voice is heavy as she says this.
“We’re here,” I tell her a while later.
Kennedy gasps as she peers out of the passenger window. When she turns back to me, there’s a sparkle in her eyes.
“Horseback riding?”
My heart leaps in my throat at the unabashed joy on her face.
“This is what you brought me to do?” she asks as her hands move to undo her seatbelt.
I quickly turn off the car and get out, making it to her side to hold the door for her.
“I love horses,” she gushes.
I know.
I barely manage to hold the words back.
“I figured you would.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “How?”
“Pretty certain it was on your intake form for the club,” I lie.
We do have members of the Black Opal complete a lengthy application. Yes, I’ve looked over Kennedy’s extensively. But her history of riding and love of horses was something I knew long before she ever became a member of the club.
“Oh,” she says, but the wrinkle on her forehead remains. She looks at me, and her lips part as if she’s about to say something, but the ranch owner comes over.
“Mr. Kim,” the older man greets, hand outstretched. “This must be the lovely Ms. Townsend.”
He takes her hand but, to my chagrin, bows his head as if he’s about to kiss her palm.
Abso-fucking-lutely-not.
My hand covers Kennedy’s before I can think about it, taking her hand in mine as I glare at the owner.
He clears his throat and takes a step back.
“First, we’ll ride out to an overlook with the most spectacular view, and that’s where you’ll have your picnic lunch,” he explains, although I know all of this since I personally arranged it.
“This is amazing.” Kennedy smiles at me. Then she does something that twists my heart in a fucking knot. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten out to ride.”
She lifts on her tiptoes, kisses my cheek, and whispers, “Thank you.”
I remain planted in place for a few seconds. Around me, I can hear Kennedy and the instructor talking about her riding experience and their shared love of horses.
But I’m too caught up in the tingling on my cheek from where she kissed me. I want to drag her back to me and make her do it again and again.
Then, I want to take her somewhere hidden so she can privately thank me.
Instead of acting like a caveman, I watch her. When the farm owner brings out the horses, her eyes light up. The smile that crests on her face is like the sun rising over the mountains in the morning.
“Let me help.” I don’t wait to take her by the waist to help her on the horse. I nearly shove the owner out of the way to be the one to assist her.
She tells me no, but still takes my hand and lets me help her settle into the saddle.
Reluctantly, I withdraw my hand to mount my horse for our afternoon ride.
After the owner gives us more instructions on the route, we start our forty-five-minute journey to where a picnic lunch awaits us. On the way, I watch Kennedy. There’s a small yet beautiful smile playing on her lips.
Yet, as she stares off at the scenery in the distance, I see something in her eyes. A far-off look as if she’s concentrating on something.
Something other than the moment we’re sharing. I don’t like to think she’s thinking about anything other than being here with me.
“How long has it been since you’ve been on a horse?” I ask.
Her eyes flutter, and a wrinkle appears on her forehead.
“A couple of years.” She pushes out a harsh breath. “I hadn’t realized it’s been so long.” She leans down and strokes the side of her horse. The move is so full of tenderness and care that I want it to be my face that she’s stroking.
“Why so long?” I ask.
She shrugs, then gives me a sideways look. “Work. It takes me out of town a lot. A story I was working on at my last job had me in and out of the city two to three weeks out of a month for at least six months.”
I know.
The series of articles she wrote as a result were excellent.
“The investigation that exposed the insurance fraud committed by the Miller family, which owned a big pet services company?”
Her eyes widen slightly. “How do you know about that?”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my lips. “I read the article you wrote about it,” I admit.
“Oh.” She responds with a nod. “Yes, that’s the one.”
“Impressive,” I tell her, honestly. “How did you become involved in that investigation?”
“A tip from a disgruntled employee.” She grins. “That’s how a lot of fraud cases become uncovered. At some point, the leader of the scam tries to screw over their employee or partner, and that’s what gets them into trouble.”
I let her talk for the duration of our ride while the owner, who maintains a distance of a few feet ahead of us, occasionally gives us directions and information about the area.
“This place is beautiful,” Kennedy says in awe once we approach the overlook.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” I dismount from my horse first and move to take her hand to help her down. Though she can do so all alone, a thrill rolls through me when she willingly allows me to assist her off her horse.
“This way.” I don’t release her hand once we tie up the horses, and I wave the owner away to lead her to the opposite side of the barn where our picnic lunch awaits us.
“Oh wow,” she exclaims, staring at the rolling hills before us. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten outside of the city that I forget how beautiful it is out here.”
“We’ll have to do something about that,” I say, leading her to the red and white picnic blanket.
Our spread includes various fruits, chicken salad sandwiches, potato salad, cheese and crackers, and a chilled bottle of champagne.
“This is …” She trails off as she stares at the food.
“Exactly what we needed after riding for so long.”
I take her hand to help her sit.
“The horses are eating, too, right?” Concern wraps around her words.
“Of course. Mike keeps bags of apples in his barn for them to snack on while on rides,” I say of the owner. “Plenty of water, too.”
She nods. “I can tell they’re well cared for. I used to ride horses when I was younger. After years with them, I can tell how well or not well they’re being maintained.”
“This place is the highest rated when it comes to humane treatment of their horses,” I tell her. I made sure to do my research before bringing her here. The truth is, I’ve been coming to Mike’s Ranch for a few years, taking lessons and getting comfortable with horses, for this exact moment.
“I used to think horses were magical creatures when I was a kid.” She smiles at me. “I’ve loved them ever since. Even a fall off one, breaking my collarbone, didn’t stop me from loving them.”
“Little warrior,” I say without thinking as I stare at her.
She gives me a look before picking up one of the sandwiches and taking a bite.
While we eat, I continue to watch her. Though the happiness on her face is evident, I still see concern or something in her eyes. After years of watching her, learning her habits, and getting any picture I could find of her—online, in person, anywhere—I know her expressions well.
“You’re distracted,” I say. I bring it up for two reasons. The first, out of concern. The second is because I’m selfish. I want all of her thoughts, her attention, her secrets.
If something’s on her mind, I want to know it. Everything that’s hers, I want it.
“I’m not—”
“You are,” I cut her off. “It’s not constant, but you get this distant look in your eyes now and again.”
She stares for a second. Those beautiful brown eyes of hers observe me. “How do you see that? It’s as if …” She shakes her head.
As if I’ve known you for years? Because I have.
I can’t say that out loud, though.
“I’m excellent at reading people,” I say instead of the truth. In reality, I’m excellent at reading her. Years of experience.
She pulls her knees up to cover them with her arms and then props her chin on her arms. She finally drops the mask from earlier, and the forlorn expression now covering her face pulls at my soul.
My hands are on her before I know it. I turn her body so that she’s in between my legs, running my hands up and down her jean-covered thighs, stroking them.
She sits up, placing her hands on the blanket to support herself as she leans back. But she keeps her body positioned in between my legs.
“It’s this investigation.” Looking out toward the hills, she sighs. “While I was out of town, I met the mother of the girl who killed herself,” she admits.
I remain silent, listening.
“She was so … cold,” she continues. “I can’t understand it. I mentioned her daughter, and the woman had no emotional reaction whatsoever. It’s like she was more annoyed that I disturbed her routine than over her daughter’s death.”
She throws a hand up and shakes her head.
I reach out and entwine my finger in one of the locks of her hair that spills out of her bun.
“How a parent could have such a lack of reaction about her child …” She shrugs, looking hopeless. “I’m not a parent, and I know that there isn’t one right way to grieve, but I just don’t understand.”
I can’t speak past the lump that forms in my throat. Now it’s my turn to stare off into the field around us. The pain that I’d learned to ignore over the years begins to rise. I thought I had overcome this burning in my chest whenever I thought about him.
My father.
The bastard who donated to needy families and even had an orphanage built in his name but privately ignored his son. Because I wasn’t born to a woman from a worthy enough family. I was the bastard of the help his family hired.
Not good enough to claim in public.
“You don’t understand because you’ve never experienced it,” I say without thinking.
From the corner of my eye, I see Kennedy turn to look at me. Her gaze burrows into my profile. I don’t return her stare.
I can’t. If I face her right now, she’ll see the burden of my past that I’ve worked too hard and long to bury.
Yet, I keep talking.
“You grew up in a family where you were loved. Not with parents who didn’t care whether you lived or died.” I inhale and blink a few times before finally turning to look at her.
“For someone like you, it’s hard to even fathom a parent who wouldn’t do everything in their power to protect, provide, and care for their children. Your parents would be devastated if something happened to you.” I push out a harsh breath.
“That’s not the case for everyone, though.”
I don’t realize that my hands are tightening into fists until I feel her palms on my skin.
She doesn’t say anything for a long time. Back and forth, she moves her hands over mine, soothing the tension that’s enveloped my body.
“But you know,” she says just above a whisper.
The nod I give her is reluctant.
“I know what it’s like to be unwanted,” I confess.
Then she looks me directly in the eye and moves a hand to cup my face. What she says next is enough to shatter me from the inside out.
“How could someone not want you?”
And I’m done for.
My eyelids fall closed as I pivot my head to kiss the inside of her palm. Then I’m on her.
I move to cover her body with mine. With her back against the picnic blanket, I devour her mouth. A groan spills from me when she parts her lips.
I taste the grapes mixed with the champagne that she had with lunch. The flavor is made all the more delectable by her natural sweetness. She moans, and her arms clutch desperately at my shoulders.
The knowledge that she craves this as much as I do is heady. That she’s enjoying the feel of my lips moving over hers as much as I am is fucking intoxicating.
Suddenly, it’s not enough.
I place kisses at the corner of her mouth down to that vein in her neck.
“Oh,” she gasps when I run my tongue along that vein.
Before I know it, I’m moving down her body. I need more of this. Of her. I want to taste more of her in my mouth.
After undoing the button of her jeans, I push her shirt up a few inches to kiss her belly. I dip my tongue inside of her belly button.
A curse spills from her lips as her body quivers. I make a mental note that her belly button is a sensitive spot for her before I continue with my perusal of her body.
“Dae,” she pleads, her hands pushing at my shoulders.
I press her legs wider with my elbows, opening her up to me. My fingers go to the tops of her jeans, tugging and pulling with an urgency I’ve never had with anyone else.
“Dae, wait,” she pleads again.
It’s the ‘wait’ that makes me pause.
When my eyes finally land on hers, I see the panic in them.
“We’re outside,” she whispers. “Someone could—”
“No one will see us. It’s just us out here,” I promise. I made sure to rent the entire place out for this afternoon. Even the owner knows not to come find us.
“Are you sure?” There’s a longing in her eyes that almost has me coming in my fucking pants.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, little warrior,” I confess.
“O-Okay.” Her voice is so strained with need, my cock grows painfully hard in my pants.
My hands curl around her jeans again and tug until her thighs are exposed to me. I pull them all off because I want to see her. I want her exposed to my eyes and my gaze only.
“I want to fucking taste you,” I growl.
Not giving her time to respond, I toss her legs over my shoulders. I kiss and bite the insides of the thighs, licking to ease the bites. Kennedy squirms beneath me.
“Dae,” she moans when I use two fingers to open her pussy to me.
It’s pink and puffy and fucking perfect. I blow against her clit. Kennedy’s back bows off the blanket. Her hips rise, begging for more.
“God, how long I’ve waited for this,” I mumble before allowing myself the pleasure of her taste against my tongue.
“Oh God,” she purrs, her hips lifting again.
I pull back. “Not God, little warrior. Dae. Say it,” I command before blowing against her pussy lips again. “Say my fucking name.”
“Dae,” she repeats.
I squeeze her ass cheeks, holding her firmly in place. “For that, you deserve to come.”
I lick her from bottom to top, circling her clit with my tongue before sucking on it. Moisture drips from her pussy, soaking my beard and running down my chin.
“You taste so good,” I groan against her.
“I’m going to come,” she says as if warning me.
I suck harder and then insert a finger inside of her. My dick presses painfully against my zipper, but it’ll have to wait. This first time is just for her. But I still want to feel her walls come around me. So, I insert a second finger.
“Come for me, little warrior,” I command. “Show me what you fucking look like when I make you come.”
She listens so well. Her body is so responsive.
She comes. From my mouth. Her pussy clenching and squeezing my fingers as the orgasm rolls through her. I keep my mouth on her the entire time, soaking up every bit of her orgasm. I’m a hungry bastard when it comes to her.
I hold her, squeezing and feeling her ass, her thighs, her hips, and any other parts of her body that are exposed for my perusal.
It’s not until her hips finally stop straining from the force of her orgasm that I lower her legs to the ground. I crawl up her body and bracket her head in with my arms. The dazed look on her face almost does me in.
I dip my head and kiss her. I want the taste of her pussy mingled with the taste of her mouth on my tongue. I want it all.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say against her lips before kissing her again.
“Dae,” she murmurs, breathless.
That’s all I need to hear. My name on her lips is all the sound I need to hear for the rest of my life to die a satisfied man.
But as much as I want this to last, to ram my cock as deeply as I can inside of her, I don’t. I don’t want to take her out here for the first time.
I want her in my bed. In my house. On my territory where she belongs.
So before I lose all control, I pull back. But I take one final look, remembering exactly how she looked when I made her come for the first time.
This won’t be the last, but I need this memory saved.
I help her sit up before I kiss her hand. “I’ll help you get dressed.”
She looks at me with surprise. “You didn’t …” Her eyes go to my very obviously hard cock. “You didn’t get to release.”
I have to stifle a groan when she bites her lower lip. It’s a move of uncertainty mixed with lust.
“Baby, if I take you out here, neither one of us is coming up for air anytime soon,” I tell her.
Hell, if I take her right here, I’ll keep her out here for longer than I paid for this space. The owner will undoubtedly come out here searching for us and see her, all of her. Then I’d have to kill him where he stood. And anyone else who was with him.
She tucks in her bottom lip, her eyes glued to my obvious erection.
I capture her lips with mine because I have to. “Don’t keep looking at me like that unless you want anything within a five-mile radius to hear you screaming my name.”
Her eyes spark with renewed interest. Is my little warrior a voyeur?
“Let’s finish lunch,” I tell her after helping her put her pants on.